Page 67 of Eight Steps to Alpha

Chapter 23

Prying himself out of bed,Elliot let his head lull back to his shoulders, and thanked his past self for having the foresight to call in sick today. His head hurt, his face hurt, and every muscle in his body felt like he had been in some sort of dramatic accident. He braced himself on the side of the bed, hands cradling his aching scull as he reached for his glasses.

If it wasn’t for his physical condition, he would have thought last night had been a nightmare. But it was real. The fight, the bruises, but most of all, Fe coming into his room and trembling in his arms. He’d never seen her like that. Raw, fragile, broken. It was hard for him to watch.

Yes, he had every right to be angry with her, but he couldn’t blame Fe for what happened. If Colton hadn’t gotten involved, they would have never been there in the first place.

Elliot pushed himself to stand, cringing at the pain that shot through his body, and walked out of his room.

Colton had to go. Yes, he was his brother, and yes, family was important, but he’d already been more than hospitable. It had been a two weeks. Fourteen days he put up with his disruption, and now it was time he found another couch to sleep on.

Fe’s bedroom door was open, her room empty, which meant she’d already left for work that morning. Good. He didn’t need her around to witness this. He walked into the bathroom, where on the floor by the sink, her bathrobe was left crumpled. Like she’d stepped out of it in her rush to get ready this morning. Bending down, he hooked the fabric with his finger, then held it in a fist at his chest. A rush of adrenaline washed over his body as he remembered how she felt in his arms last night. How her body shook, and she was so close to tears. He closed his eyes, and resisted the urge hold the fabric to his face. To inhale the scent of her that always reminded him of fresh laundry, sun, and honeysuckles.

Forcing himself to hang the robe on the back of the door, he braced both hands on the side of the sink and stared at his reflection. He didn’t look half as bad as he’d expected. There was a bruise on his left cheek where he’d been punched in the face, but under the mask of his shadow, it was hardly noticeable. He stretched his mouth open, assessing the cut on his lip, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

He opened the medicine cabinet, tossed back a couple generic pain relievers he was pretty sure were expired, and then stepped into the shower. The steam filled his lungs, forcing much needed oxygen to his brain. He braced his forearm against the wall and let the warm water wash over his aching muscles.

Fe’s shampoo bottle fell off of the top shelf, and the fragrant sent overcame the entire bathroom. He bent down, picked it up and held it to his nose. Her sweet face flashed into his mind, followed by the brief kiss she’d placed on his lips last night. It was an innocent kiss. Not anything like the other’s they’d shared in the past, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

His hand flattened on the wall, and he tried to push the image away. Her small fingers….how gently she touched him. How vulnerable and open she’d been with him last night.

His head fell forward against the wall, and he grabbed the bar of soap from the tray and began rubbing it roughly up and down his arms.

She’d never kissed him like that before. Soft, and sweet, and nurturing. He’d wanted to kiss her so badly last night. To pull her into his body, and really kiss her. Not because they were drunk, or playing a game… but because he needed her. Needed her in a way that didn’t even make sense to him. His hands moved down his body then. To his chest, then his stomach, then lower. He wrapped his hand around his cock, squeezing his eyes shut.

It had been a long time since he’d gotten off, and damn it all, he needed that too. Maybe it was the pent-up testosterone from last night, or the fact he hadn’t had a woman in year, but God, he needed a release. He adjusted his stance, adding more weight to his forearm, as he began to stroke.

Fe’s purple vibrator flashed into his mind, and he grew even harder. Had she used it yet? Did she think about him when she did? The thought about Fe fantasizing about him almost tipped him over the edge. Sure, he’d thought about her at least a thousand times over the years, but he was a man. Men thought about sex in everything they did. But Fe? His hand slowed, moving down his shaft more slowly.

The thought scared him, but excited him at the same time. He shouldn’t let himself think this way. He should push this dirty thought from his mind, and stop. Fe was his best friend. She’d been his best friend for five years, and allowing himself to continue was going to lead him straight to hell.

He flexed his jaw, pushed himself from the wall and raked his hands roughly through is hair. “God damn it!” He hit the wall. “God damn it!”

* * *

It wasa half hour later when Elliot made it out of the bathroom. Now showered, dressed, and more wound up than a barn door needing WD-40, he entered the kitchen. Colton was still asleep on the couch, which only added to his foul mood. He grabbed a bowl from the cupboard, filled it to the rim with cereal, then yanked open the drawler, making as much noise as possible when looking for a spoon.

Colton stirred in his sleep, and flipped over on the couch. “You want to keep it down, brother? People are trying to sleep around here.”

“It’s eleven,” was Elliot’s ridged response.

Colton removed the pillow from the top of his head, and sat to the edge of the cushion. “Who shit in your coffee?”

Elliot leaned against the table and kicked his fee feet out in front of him. “You really don’t know?”

Colton only stared at him blankly, unknowingly adding more fuel to his fire. “Oh yeah.” He pointed the spoon at him. “Maybe it’s the fact that my brother set me up last night?”

Colton shook his head, laughed under his breath, and pushed himself to stand. “Wasn’t that the point? Weren’t we there for that exact thing? Honestly, I was expecting a ‘thank you.’”

Elliot chuckled, this time with his whole body, throwing his head back in the process. “You want me to thank you? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Well you sure as hell won’t get an apology, if that’s what you’re after.”

“Of course not. Because you do nothing wrong.” Elliot picked up his bowl and shoved a huge spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Colton’s jaw flexed as he walked into the kitchen, took a mug from the cupboard, and poured himself some coffee. “Wherever did you get that idea?”

Elliot lifted one shoulder, not allowing himself to be bated into this line of conversation.

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